


Homeward bound

by RaijinNoHana



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: A tiny bit of angsty thoughts, Back from Tenrou, Bathing/Washing, Crack, Fairy Tail Seven Year Time Skip, Family Feels, Fluff, Freed POV, M/M, Magic, Post-Seven Year Time Skip (Fairy Tail), Raijinshuu - Freeform, Slice of Life, Spiders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:55:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22804438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaijinNoHana/pseuds/RaijinNoHana
Summary: The Raijinshuu, as well as the rest of the guild, are back from Tenrou Island after seven years of sleep. What could possibly go wrong?(Apart from spiders, and foul-smelling plants, and Freed's deadly runes, and plenty other things.)
Relationships: Evergreen/Elfman Strauss (implied), Laxus Dreyar/Freed Justine
Comments: 9
Kudos: 42





	Homeward bound

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ayazuri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayazuri/gifts).



> So.  
> My beloved friend Ayazuri (check out her stories, by the way, she's an amazing author!) seemed to me like she needed a teeny tiny story to read and have fun with, so I decided to write one.  
> That's for you, sweetheart. I hope it will lift you up a bit when you need to. :*

Despite the effort I'm making to remember, in the end I can't recall how long it has been since the last time we – the four of us – walked up these stairs together.  
  
Bickslow is unusually quiet, and I'm so used to Ever's heels that the absence of their relentless _click, click, click_ unsettles me much further than I'd like to admit – she lost her shoes somewhere on Tenrou Island, and finding them wasn't exactly at the forefront of our agenda, let alone Elfman and his eagerness to carry her across the woods as the textbook maidenly bride. Needless to say that the poor man almost ended up petrified more than once. I would have found the whole picture amusing, weren't I so concerned about the seven-year slumber and all the rest.  
  
I stare at the three of them, and Laxus answers with questioning eyes.  
  
He's still covered in bruises and his shirt is an utter mess, all ripped and scorched after the battles against Grimoire Heart and Acnologia – and I have to force myself into thinking that it happened _seven years ago_ , and not just a few days – but at least he isn't swaying or throwing up, very much unlike Natsu, who was still struggling with evident bouts of nausea when we left him and the others at the guild. Wendy told us that this kind of motion sickness becomes worse the more powerful a dragon slayer becomes, yet Laxus spent long hours of sailing without batting an eyelid, secretly shielded by the secret runes I taught him years ago.  
  
I try my best not to grin. I fail, and a small inadvertent chuckle erupts from my lips. Three glances whip towards me, curious and inquisitive.  
  
<<Care to tell us what's so funny?>> Bickslow asks.  
  
<<No.>>  
  
Laxus snorts, and for a long insane moment I imagine he knows what I was thinking of. I shake away the thought and secure my sword to the waistband, reaching the last step with a small leap. My left leg feels a bit dull, tingling as it often happens when I spend too much time reading in the library. It's one of the inevitable consequences of lying still for seven years, I guess, even if Mira looked as graceful as ever when she and Wendy took care of us all on the island, and Titania showed no sign of exertion as she fiercely led us into the guild hall immediately afterwards.  
  
Yes, the guild...at last, it turns out that seven years can be harsh and unforgiving. And so Fairy Tail – our deranged, unbelievable family, the one I learned to love by losing so much – currently presents itself as an utter mess: more of a farm than a gathering place, almost deserted, persistently vexed by any lowlife within miles, it has very little of the place it was before we left. The Master nearly had a heart attack when he heard the whole story, and the scene which appeared in front of our eyes as we placed foot in there made our blood boil and our pride ignite once more.  
  
<<Freed, dear.>> It's Ever's voice, calm and unusually soft, which brings me back to our current task. <<Your demon is showing.>>  
  
I huff, bothered, and darkness withdraws into my right eye. <<My apologies. I still need to recover properly.>>  
  
<<You still thinking about the guild, huh?>> Laxus quietly murmurs.  
  
I nod, astonished. <<Am I that obvious?>>  
  
He smiles. <<Maybe.>> But I heard his magic crackle around his body as Jet and Droy told us of the creditors, and I know he easily guessed it because we all feel the same.  
  
<<Well,>> Bicks says after a while, breaking a rather thick silence. <<the guild surely was a mess, but this place also looks a bit different.>>  
  
It does. The walls are darker than what I remembered, and there's an odd plant partially covering the door of our old apartment. Behind me, Laxus inhales, narrowing his eyes. <<It smells different, too.>>  
  
<<Different like "unknown magic"?>> Ever asks, wiggling her small nose in the air. I try to detect something as well, but our senses are nowhere as good as a dragon slayer's.  
  
<<Nope.>> Laxus shakes his head, vigilant. <<Different like _different_.>> He carefully pushes aside the shower of thick ivy leaves, and I lean over to inspect it with magic. This time, my nose wrinkles instantly. What the bloody hell...!  
  
Bicks waves a hand in front of his own face, shielding it where it isn't covered by the helmet. <<How about _different_ _like_ _dead_ _shit_?>>  
  
Ever glares at him and I stiffen, half-unsettled and half-amused by his questionable lexical choices. <<Well, boy, you're a charmer!>>  
  
<<Yeah, very smooth, dude.>> Laxus grins. <<Freed, how bad is it?>>  
  
<<It isn't at all.>> I explain. <<This climbing plant may smell like a wet dog and its branches are one of the oddest purple we'll ever see, but aside that it is completely natural. No sign of unidentified spells or dangerous magic whatsoever.>>  
  
Bickslow huffs, unconvinced. <<You sure it's safe?>>  
  
I lift a brow. <<Are you questioning my competence?>>  
  
<< _Freed_.>> Ever mutters. <<You're going drama queen again.>>  
  
<<I can handle him alone, Specs, don't worry for me.>> Bickslow retorts, sticking out his tongue.  
  
Before Ever takes her spectacles away and petrifies Bickslow again – something which wouldn't displease me that much at the present moment, to say the least – Laxus lifts his hands and steps between them, hiding a smile within a snort. <<Holy shit, look at you! I've been back for a bunch of hours and you're already bickering like cats and dogs.>>  
  
<<Well, more than a bunch of hours it's been a bunch of years.>> Bickslow points out. <<Seven, to be precise.>>  
  
<<Good point.>> Laxus turns to face me. <<And you, Captain...you were the one supposed to keep them at bay, I thought?>>  
  
<<I have bad days too.>> I counterback. <<Now, if you please follow my lead...>>  
  
We all turn toward the door, this time in silence.  
  
Coming home is a delicate matter, and although I secretly cherish the raw, wild side of being out on a mission – long hours spent walking through the woods, sleeping surrounded by the piercing scent of moss and unknown animal sounds, and the colour of wildflowers during summer, and Bicks and Ever engaging in little competitions to see who's going to catch the best prey for dinner, and Laxus snoring quietly after some campfire stories have been told – in the end I always found myself yearning for the familiar, heartwarming feeling of being home again.  
  
Every step I take today, though, makes my heart ache so deep I'm barely breathing. It feels like all the joys and sorrows and hopes and dreams and pains and emotions I would have experienced this seven years – _seven years!_ – are coagulating in a tiny spot somewhere into my chest.  
  
<<Anyway,>> Laxus says, gently pulling me out of my thoughts, <<if Freed says it's safe, then it's safe. The door is all dry and scraped and the knob is in evident need to be greased, but apart from that the whole building looks pretty normal.>>  
  
<<So what now, _Captain_?>> Bickslow mumbles. ~~  
~~  
I do my best to ignore his wry remarks. <<Now we go inside, we thoroughly inspect every corner of the house, and when we have made sure that everything is safe, we unpack our things, we take a long shower and rest.>> I draw out my sword. <<Be careful, though: as usual, before leaving I placed a number of spells around the house in order to prevent damages or intruders.>>  
  
Bicks huffs in annoyance. <<You mean we have to fight?>>  
  
I consider actually letting him step into a spell or two, but at last I shake my head. <<I'd prefer you not to, as some of them are actually rather harmful or dangerous. Put them off as I taught you, and I'll do my best to dispel all the other ones as soon as I can. If you were to accidentally step into one of them, please call me and I'll come at once to get you out.>>  


<<As you wish, sadist dear.>> Ever snorts, rolling her eyes. Laxus burst out laughing, and I prepare to take down the first spell.  
  
*  
  
Once inside, we all sigh with relief: the windows are unharmed, the crack in the kitchen wall hasn't grown any deeper, and everything looks more or less like we just walked out the door to attend the S-Class trials: the notes I took just the night before still lie on the table, and my favourite mug sits on the counter as if I just had breakfast.  
  
<<Someone got pretty messy again, huh?>> I hear Laxus comment as he disappears into the corridor.  
  
Ever follows him close, laughing. <<And when did he stop, exactly?>>  
  
Laxus muffles a curse, fighting back one of my thief-proof enchantments. <<But he was better at concealing it.>>  
  
<<It's all your fault, dude.>> Bicks considers, writing the runes I use to disarm spells on the kitchen door. It took him a lot of time to learn how to do it – clearly not everyone is as gifted as Laxus – but in the end he and Ever finally mastered some of the easiest tricks. <<You left the two of us dealing with him for _months_.>>  
  
<<We should have asked the Master for a refund after the whole lost sword thing.>> Ever adds.  
  
<<The lost sword _what_?>> Laxus howls, poking his head back into the living room. <<But you never leave the goddamn thing, not even when you go take a piss! How is it that you _lost_ it?!>>  
  
Ever and Bicks nudge – the fuckers – and begin to report him about the supposed state of disarray I would have put the house in as long as he was away, of course overstating circumstances and giving misleading hints about my own behaviour. Alright, I may have skipped the chores a couple of times and lost a thing or two around the house, but I was busy finding new ways to atone for my most recent deeds and reaching a deeper meaning in life when Laxus was away – was that a crime?  
  
I take a long, deep breath, disarming what I believe to be the last spell in the common area of our house. <<All right, heads up, you two!>> I interrupt them, and my ice-cold voice must be working, for they abruptly stop talking. Good. There's a limit to the amount of calumny I can take. <<You are dismissed. Go take a shower, eat, sleep, do whatever pleases you, it's your own business.>>  
  
<<Subtext,>> Bickslow mutters, as Ever lights up and vanishes into her bedroom in a split second, <<shut up and get the hell out.>>  
  
I give him my sweetest smile. <<Precisely.>>  
  
Laxus tilts his head towards mine, watching our friend lazily trudge towards the bathroom. <<My, you're ever so wicked.>> And there's something in his snarky grin which makes me confusedly smile, snort, and flush all at the same time. <<Am I dismissed too, Captain?>> he asks, now playfully formal.  
  
The corners of my lips are stubbornly curling upwards.<<Since when do you actually follow my orders?>>  
  
<<Since when do you care?>> he asks back, clearly pleased with something I can't properly grasp. <<Forcing everyone into quiet compliance – should I say _submission_? – is the true core of your evil charm.>>  
  
<<Flattering me won't get you a preferential treatment.>> As if submitting was something he could actually put into practice – he just craves to be challenged, to compete, to struggle for power; it's his way to affirm himself, and it always has been, since the first time we met.  
  
His smile softens a bit. <<You lost your impartiality towards me a long time ago, Captain.>>  
  
Is there a spell to avoid fierce flushing? There must be, for I can't stand to be looked at so intently.  
  
I don't have time to find out, however – Ever mercifully interrupts us before I disgrace myself further, stepping back into the living room, crossing it and rushing to the door into an unbelievably short dress and a pair of high-heeled shoes. <<All right people, I'll meet you for dinner. Have a nice afternoon and don't scatter too much unresolved sexual tension around the house! Bye!>>  
  
My eyes dart towards Laxus, and his ridiculous wheeze is so deeply satisfying that for a moment I almost forgot to feel utterly offended by Ever's cheap insinuations. I wonder about the possibility of enchanting her make-up box in a fit of pique – last time I did it was significantly entertaining, to say the least.  
  
<<Ah, don't mind her.>> Bickslow shrugs, taking off his shoes and some parts of his armour and leaving them on the couch. <<She's just nervous because she's got a date with Elfman.>>  
  
Ever stops abruptly on the threshold. <<It's not a date! And it's not with Elfman!>> she howls, her voice reaching pitches I hardly have ever heard. She angrily opens the door, pushes the foul-smelling plant aside and crosses the doorstep with heavy feet. <<Gentlemen, if that is all...goodbye!>>  
  
The door slams closed behind her back, and the three of us share a knowing look.  
  
<<Well, since I don't have a very manly boyfriend to go have a shower with,>> Bickslow mutters, <<I'll go take a bath, if you don't mind.>>  
  
<<Go ahead.>> I allow, pointing towards the bathroom with my head. I still have a couple of arrangements and spells to inspect before enjoying the luxury of a long bath. <<It would be nice of you to do the effort of leaving the bathroom in a decent state, though I know how hard it is for you to actually do so.>>  
  
Bickslow merrily sends me to hell, disappearing back into the corridor and locking himself inside the bathroom, and Laxus bursts into a long, wholehearted laughter. Here it is – this sound alone would set fire to the oceans, melting the water into a roaring wave of thunder; his mirth would ignite whole kingdoms, and I drown into it, allowing relief to finally sink into my chest. It's a good feeling.  
  
<<Fuck, I missed this house.>> Laxus says as his laughter fades, catching a tear pooling in the corner of his eye, and I cannot tell if he's talking about the building itself or the idiotic bickering we all love to indulge in. His eyes linger on me a little – possibly both, then?  
  
Bickslow's delighted noises prevent me to investigate any further. <<Aw! This house missed you very much too, mate. Think of it, next time you decide to get yourself exiled!>>  
  
How fortunate he is – years spent taming darkness granted me an endless supply of self-control, which prevents me to turn into my demon-self and storm into the bathroom to slice his throat with my own fucking nails. How fortunate indeed. <<Pipe down!>> I hiss, crossing the air with the tip of my finger.  
  
<<What are you up to?>> Laxus gingerly asks, frowning slightly at the sight of runes he doesn't know yet. <<Nothing deadly, I hope.>>  
  
<<Not yet, but the day is still young.>> I mutter. <<Who knows how many other ways he will find to annoy me beyond any measure?>>  
  
He looks at me, unconvinced.  
  
<<I merely enchanted the bathroom to seal off any sound – he can't hear us and most importantly _we_ can't hear _him_ , which, if you ask me, is a considerable advantage.>>  
  
He fondly smiles. <<You're terrible.>>  
  
<<I am.>> I proudly concede. <<Now, why don't you go check your bedroom? I made sure everything was left precisely as it was when...>> When his grandfather exiled him, allowing him to carry the burden of blame all by himself, even if we all agreed to that plan, even if it was _my_ magic which actually forced our guild members to fight each others as enemies. <<...when you left.>>  
  
He grins, completely unaware of my thoughts. <<Oh, yes. I can't tell you how badly you grow to miss your mattress once you sleep on the damp ground for months.>>  
  
We share small smiles, parting to take care of our own bedrooms. Mine is just as it was when I left, and the heat and humidity rate I set before leaving preserved my books from disconvenient aging; I disband a fair amount of spells, reaching for the window and allowing some fresh air to flow in as I take a careful look around.  
  
The shelves are untouched – of course they are, for I reserved the deadliest spells to protect them, and the discreet amount of red blood staining the floor tells me they were rather effective. That's the only new acquisition in the whole room, most likely belonging to two different people at least, and I guess it might belong to the creeps which harassed the guild over the last seven years – Magnolia's citizens are honest people, and they would never crawl inside an abandoned home to steal.  
  
I consider sitting on the bed, but I am too conscious of the dirt clinging to my skin, hair and clothes to actually do so. Even the clean bandages which Mira wrapped around my injuries on the ship feel filthy. A long, hot bath would be fine indeed, and that's precisely what I intend to do once I'm done unpacking the few belongings we managed to take back from Tenrou. I'll start collecting the clothes – laundry is upon me, as always, but the ordinary vibe of it is almost reassuring, I consider, given the last few events.  
  
A nice feeling of softness and peace is almost setting in when an unholy sound crosses the air like a bolt of thunder.  
  
<<Freed!>> Laxus yells. <<Holy shit, Freed, come here! FREED!>>  
  
His voice hits the back of my head like a brick, and I drop the clothes at once.  
  
When his exile began, I enchanted every piece of furniture in his room as well. It was intended to inflict pain upon anyone who tried to open closets and drawers, mostly, but it should have been ineffective on him...well, I wasn't exactly in my right mind when I cast it – I may have been drunk, and desperate, and swearing to the moon that I would have protected his space until he'd be ready to come back, so I may have slurred a rune or two. I dread to think of the horrible hurt I may have conjured upon him because of my carelessness.  
  
Cursing under my breath, I storm into his bedroom with the sword in my hand, a flood of apologies ready to spill out of my mouth; a few lines on the ground, and the runes glow brighter before fading out completely.  
  
<<Listen, I...>> The agitation is strong enough that it takes me a few moments to realize that I'm talking to no one. Laxus isn't there.   
  
Kidnapping? Abduction? A trap? I'm too exhausted to think it further. I consider rushing to the bathroom to dispel the silence enchantment and gain Bickslow's help, but if Laxus were in immediate danger, it would take too long. Shit.  
  
Maybe he got wounded by my spell and took refuge somewhere else? I throw myself in the corridor, cursing between my teeth for I truly must be the worst bodyguard in history.  
  
<<You monster...please, _please_ , don't come any closer...>> he weeps, and my stomach drops like a stone. Was it a mere impression, or was him on the verge of tears?  
  
I turn my body into runes, floating across the hall and through the door with utmost concern. I see him curled down on the carpet, wincing in pain or discomfort, but at least it looks like all of his limbs are in their right place.  
  
To my utter surprise, he lifts from the ground and straightens his back in fury, yelling my name again. <<Freed!>> he cries, imperious, seemingly unaware of my presence. <<I swear if you don't get your ass over there in this exact moment, I'll...>>  
  
My body reassembles just in time to allow my eyebrow to raise properly. <<You'll _what_ , Laxus?>>  
  
He ignores my words, and the crude relief descending on his features as he sees my face is so intense that for a moment I barely remember I was going to reprimand him for his manners. <<Thank goodness!>> He jumps up to his feet, grabs my left arm and drags me towards the sofa, pushing me ahead of him. <<Now, step there and do your thing!>>  
  
<<My...thing?>>  
  
Laxus nods, his face all pale and sweaty. <<Your trick, your mojo, your secret magic stuff that makes abominations disappear!>> He huffs in front of my baffled expression, rolling his eyes and waving his hand. He points at the couch with an unusually accusing finger, and a small rush of static energy makes my hair stick out a bit. When Laxus is twitchy, it happens all the time. <<Call it whatever you like, just go over and do it!>>  
  
I'm beginning to sense what is happening there, and it's making me slightly homicidal. <<Laxus,>> I start, and if my voice isn't making clear how bad my temper is turning – and how swiftly, too – then my right eye all gleaming black and purple will most certainly do the work, <<you didn't have me rush there thinking you were being tortured or dying just because a tiny spider is scampering around our living room, did you?>>  
  
He shoves an outraged glance towards me, pouting. <<Come on!>> he yells back, relentless. Survival instinct clearly isn't his strong suit. <<There's a fucking monster under there!>>  
  
<<A monster?>> I mock him. <<Really?>>  
  
He nods, frantically gesturing towards the floor. <<It's goddamn huge!>> Even his magic is twitchy now, crackling around his body like an open fire. His eyes are wide and expecting, as if he were entrusting to me his entire life – which, given how terrified he is of spiders, it's a good part of what is happening. He gives me a beseeching look. << _Please_.>>  
  
<<Fine.>> I surrender, wondering why did I exactly miss him so much. <<But this time I won't kill it, no matter how hard you will beg.>>  
  
Laxus snorts. <<I don't beg.>>  
  
<<Of course you don't.>> There are many other things I would like to answer but I hurry to shove them into a recondite corner of my mind, for the last thing we need right now is an unrequired display of indecent thoughts. <<Now, if you want me to hunt down this poor little beast, lend me a hand and lift the couch.>>  
  
The resentful expression on his face abruptly shifts into shock. <<What? No!>>  
  
<<I beg your pardon?>> Holy hell, these last few hours my brows have been raising so many times they will eventually meet the ceiling before dinnertime.  
  
<<Are you crazy?>> Laxus taps his forehead with one thick index finger. <<It could jump on me and slip into my clothes!>>  
  
A plain, unadulterated spike of truth hits me in the stomach with the might of a hundred suns – it's official: I'm in love with an idiot. <<It won't do anything like that. I will enchant you with a spider-repellent rune, I will find him and I will make my magic deliver it in the woods. A futile waste of magic, if you ask me...>>  
  
<<I'm not asking.>> he mutters.  
  
<<...but completely effective nonetheless.>> I ignore him. <<Now, if you kindly step closer...>>  
  
I have almost completed the last few runes – it took me a while to remember them all, but it's not like everyday you manage the chance of using spider-repellent enchantments – when the tiny bastard scientifically decides to jump out of his hiding place, running across the carpet in a furious attempt to escape.  
  
Laxus breathes out a pained sound, and a zap of electricity carves a hole into the carpet. <<Fr->>  
  
<<I know!>> I yell, pushing him aside and swiftly casting my runes. The spider – who miraculously dodged the lightning attack – steps inside the bounding and stops, panicked, as the small area glows a yellow bright. I feel sorry for the small creature, hoping that the woods will provide him a safer environment than our house did. It takes a slight second before everything disappears – the runes, the light, the spider – while unfortunately the scorched spot is still there, smoking and ozone-like smelling.  
  
The bathroom door slams open, and a clean-as-a-whistle Bickslow appears in the doorway, waving his nose in the air with thinly disguised curiosity. <<Did you guys toast some bread? I'm kinda hungry too.>> he brightly asks, wiping the water off his ridiculous hair with a towel. <<So, what did I miss?>>  
  
<<Laxus is going to buy a new carpet.>> I growl, leaving the room before I turn the two of them into a very creative piece of furniture.  
  
*  
  
In the end, it doesn't take Laxus that much effort to win back my favour: arranging a steaming-hot bath to relax my jangled nerves is almost cheating, but for today I have honestly lost any will to fight. I slide deeper into the bathtub, groaning with relief as my muscles slowly soften.  
  
I absent-mindedly listen to the sound of Laxus' feet splashing around the steamy bathroom, idly wondering if he's going to slip and fall – it would be amusing, and well-deserved too, but I'd prefer him to stay on his feet.  
  
<<Bickslow's gone.>> he announces, placing some clean towels upon the stool.  
  
I maliciously grin. <<To Lisanna, I assume.>>  
  
<<You assume wrong, Captain.>> he states, taking off what is left of his shirt and unraveling the bandages. <<Did you enchant the water? The last thing I want right now is dealing with infected injuries.>>  
  
<<Read the runes by yourself, you're plenty able to do it.>> I mutter, slipping underwater. Of course I enchanted it – everything is mantained perfectly sterilised, and some further runes will prevent heat loss for the next hour and a half. <<And tell me,>> I add, re-emerging just in time to make space for him in the large tub, <<where did he go, if he's not around chasing girls?>>  
  
Laxus slides in with care, wincing with pain when the water touches his wounds. <<At the guild. Apparently Cana and Gray dragged him into some sort of drinking contest. And guess who will have to handle his hangover this late night?>>  
  
<<He could have just said no.>> I grumpily point out.  
  
Laxus grins. <<Yeah, that's what I said as well, and he told me to fuck off, and then he told the goddamn plant on the door to fuck off too, and after that he left.>>  
  
<<We should go too.>> I blurt out, surprising myself even more than I surprise Laxus.  
  
He closes his eyes, looking suddenly tired and somehow older. I can practically feel the stream of his thoughts crossing the space between his ears.  
  
<<They're not angry anymore.>> I murmur, playing with a small droplet trickling down his knee. I try to catch it, but it escapes my fingertip twice. <<Everything has been forgiven, in one way or another. Allow yourself to figure it out.>>  
  
He stays still for a few moments, so much that for a moment I'm afraid he's asleep. But then he half-opens his eyes, looking at me behind his fair, long lashes. <<There will be plenty of work to do up there.>> he suggests, clumsily rolling over and causing tidal waves to splash beyond the edge of the bathtub. He leans into me, placing his back against my chest with a small sigh. He's pleasantly warm - he always is, and it makes me wonder about the lightning living inside him. <<We could go there tomorrow, if you'd like to.>>  
  
<<Yes.>> I say, as soft as I can, adjusting a bit against his body. We stay nestled in restful silence for a long moment, lulled by the monotonous sound of the water lazily moving around us.  
  
<<Is there any chance for me to discover which places you visited during your exile?>> I gently suggest after a while, fondling his wet hair with utmost care. <<You are making me rather curious.>>  
  
<<Maybe.>> he smiles, eyes still stubbornly close. <<If you wash my hair.>>  
  
He's spoiled, and I'm the one to blame. I carefully slip out of the bathtub, uncaring of my own nakedness as I kneel on the floor to properly take care of him.  
  
<<Your hair has grown a little since you left.>> I comment, trying to count every time in the past when he got wounded so badly that he had to rely on me to do such simple tasks. It feels like years have passed since the last time I washed his hair – well, it has been years, actually, but that's not my current point – and I can't quite believe the amount of enjoyment I can draw from the simple movement of rubbing my hands around his head.  
  
<<Indeed.>> he hums. His arms lie abandoned across the marble edge, water dripping off his fingertips and collecting in small splotches on the floor. Steam lifts into lazy puffs, and he groans, deeply relaxed, his cheekbones turned into a lovely shade of pink as my stomach achingly knives in arousal.  
  
<<Come here now.>> I quietly say, pouring some warm water onto his reclined forehead. <<Let's rinse this pretty head of yours.>>  
  
He's unusually obedient, and he doesn't even complain when the water runs into his eyes. I tell him, and when his eyes snap open, I expect him to snort, to pull out some witty remark, to jump back into another bickering – he's always refreshed by the prospect of fighting, it's just his nature. What I earn instead is a soft stare, as the corners of his mouth gently lift up.  
  
<<What?>> I ask, confused.  
  
<<Nothing. It's just...I mean, look at yourself.>> He slightly shakes his head, seemingly uncapable to dispel a small smile off his own face. <<It's you. You unbelievable, magnificent nightmare, the mighty Freed The Dark, tending on me. And it's such a good sight.>> he concludes, sinking back into the water with his eyes closed and his cheeks conspicuously flushed. <<Thank you.>> He looks unbelievably pleased with himself.  
  
I let my hand free to wander towards his neck, rubbing my thumb against these pointy collar bones of his. Every inch of his body and spirit is made like that, all stark lines and unpredictable edges – he's made to cut, and I'm painfully eager to be torn into pieces.  
  
The kiss we share – the first since we came back – is small and full of intent, and the taste of it lingers more in my head than it does to my mouth.  
  
I have never been more afraid to be hurt than I am in this moment.  
  
<<Is everything going to be fine?>> I murmur, pushing my head against his. It's a childish question, I know it, and one that has no possible answer. Not even mages and wizards have the ability to tell something like that – not Cana, with all her useful card predictions, not the Master, in all his infinite wisdom, not Natsu, as naive and good-hearted he may be. Not even me, who always pretends to know everything and always proves to know nothing at all.  
  
<<There are bad times and good times ahead of us,>> Laxus whispers in the shell of my ear, in that calm and steady voice which seems to be a gift of his long exile, <<and we won't be able to tell them apart until the moment they hit us. But we will do our best, I promise.>>  
  
<<And what if our best should prove as not enough?>>  
  
He inhales, baffled. <<Enough for what?>> Then, he softly chuckles. <<And since when did you get so polemical?>>  
  
<<I always have been. I guess that it is another part of my demonic charm.>> I grimly mutter.  
  
<<Look, this game is consistently flawed. Life, I mean.>> he says. <<But there's some goodness in it, enough to make living worth the effort. And whatever happens, even when it sucks, we should play our best, and try to figure out which things make life worth it _for us_.>>  
  
I can't suppress a sigh. <<Why, why do we constantly bring children into the world, knowing how much pain and hurt they will inevitably face?>>  
  
<<Because that's what we do best.>> Laxus quietly says. <<We are humans. We live.>>  
  
He makes it look so easy, I think, resting my hand upon my arm and pensively looking at his strong, handsome face. Maybe it is. I am longing to find out.  
  
I am about to say it when his head pops up, his eyes now impossibly bright with excitement. <<Can you smell it?>>  
  
<<Whatever it is, you know I can't.>> I lightly snort.  
  
His smile broadens. <<There's a storm coming,>> he states, emerging from the water like a boundless, mighty god. <<and I'm dreadfully hungry.>>  
  
I am too, but that can wait. <<And I suppose you want company for dinner, despite we just have had a bath.>>  
  
<<Hell, I do.>> His throaty laughter is contagious. <<And trust me, no thunderstorm would ever mess up so badly as we were before this bath. And I can offer myself to wash and braid your hair myself when we come back, if you want me to.>>  
  
I even pretend to be thinking about it. <<We have a deal.>> I agree in the end.  
  
<<After we ignore the love bites on Ever's neck and handle Bickslow's heavy booze, of course.>> Laxus points out.  
  
I dramatically sigh. <<Parenting is such a difficult task at times.>>  
  
<<We're doing good, if you ask me.>> he grins, still standing gloriously naked in our wide marble bathtub. He places his hands on his hips, as solid and set as a statue would be, but so much, much more alive. <<Now, are you ready to run towards a storm, no matter how dreadful and wild?>>  
  
At last, I raise my head to the challenge. <<I am.>>  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are lovely ways to let me know what you're thinking!


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